


Lord Slytherin's Bond

by neil4god



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Harry, F/M, Injured Harry, M/M, Magical Bond, Mentions Child Abuse, Pembroke is a perv, Pre-Slash, Stubborn Harry, Translation Available, Voldemorts pov, mention of horcruxes, mentions underage - nothing happens, not snake face Voldemort, pre-Harry Potter/Voldemort, set during the Battle in the Ministry, this was written on my phone so excuse any typos, treacle tart & tantrums, unbreakable connection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-12 01:58:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7916038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neil4god/pseuds/neil4god
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No child should be so silent, not one as broken and bruised and damaged as Harry is. The boy can barely stay on his feet, is swaying to and fro while he tries to grip his wand, broken fingers and too much blood making it slip from his grasp. Normal boys cry out in pain, Voldemort had always expected Harry to be one of them. He thought he would grovel and scream like the rest, instead he is met with harsh breaths and silent terror, but it is the resignation that pulls at something deep within his soul. It drags him closer to the wreck of a child, past the shattered bones and blood slick floor, it makes him hesitate. One moment of doubt, one second of pity is all it took to change everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Russian translation now available ttps://ficbook.net/readfic/4979921 thanks to the very lovely Emily_Brown1563

His kneecap was shattered, bone and sinew sticking out at an unnatural angle. The blood and matter soaked through the flimsy trousers he wore, sticking the fabric to the boy. There was so much blood he couldn’t tell if anything else was damaged but by the way he dragged himself through the Ministry halls the other leg must have sustained some injury as well. He was panting heavily, sweat slick on his skin painting him an unhealthy shade of white against the blood. Both wrists were fractured or worse, it was impossible to tell from this angle but Harry still clutched his wand, each flex of his fingers causing another gasped intake of air. However this was not what made him step closer. 

If anything he should have been crowing with glee. Instead he found himself inching closer, the boys glasses were long gone and without them he knew everything would be a blur. He wanted Harry to see him, needed it for some inexplicable reason. He was being drawn to the boy, desperate to know why he hadn’t screamed during the onslaught. Not once had the child yelled in pain despite the severity of his wounds. He had dragged himself through the halls of the Ministry on a shattered knee with barely a whimper. It did not sit well with Voldemort. He remembered all too well the need to remain quiet no matter the torture. He had been a victim of it in the orphanage, making noise made him a target and he couldn’t help but feel pity for Harry that he too shared this experience. Once he was close enough for the boys myopic sight he expected him to quiver in fear and beg for his life. Instead harry whispered nearly too low to hear "Please kill me. Make the pain stop. Please." 

Afterwards he will rationalize it as an effect of his horcrux being so close to his soul. But in that moment he couldn’t stop himself. His hand reached out of its own accord, dropping heavily on the boys nape and dragging the beaten body against his chest. The boy shivered in pain as fractured wrists scrambled at the fabric of Voldemort’s robes, broken fingers grasping for contact as heavy sobs shook his smaller frame. In a hushed voice he barely recognized as his own, Voldemort muttered "I’ll make the pain stop. Ill keep you safe" the instant those words left his mouth he felt his magic react. It washed through him and into Harry binding them somehow and he knew deep in his bones that he could never hurt this child. His Death Eaters rounded the corner and stilled at the sight before them but he ignored them all. Instead he carefully collected the boy's wand from his lax grip and apparated them away to his manor.  

He was met with silent stares and utter confusion as he swept the boy into his arms and carried the sobbing wreck to his bedroom. Let the others think what they like he had more important matters to deal with. He was settling Harry onto the sheets, ignoring the blood splatters soaking into the fine cotton when a hesitant voice requested access to his room. It was the physician, Pembroke, a decrepit old man with an unhealthy interest in young girls. In short he was one of Voldemort’s least favourite people, unfortunately he was rather skilled and had a knack for curing the incurable. A silent nod had him rushing into the room, robes flapping behind him like something from a muggle cartoon, the Japanese ones. 

A sharp look had the old man halting midstep and bowing so low his entire body creaked, “My Lord, are you injured? How may I assist you?” 

Grudgingly Voldemort stepped away from the sleeping boy, just far enough that he could still hear the ragged breathing and tiny whimpers of pain as Harry lapsed into sleep, but not so close that he would give in to the urge to touch the younger man. “Harry is injured, I want him healed.” 

Fearful and slightly dubious Pembroke unbent from the floor and stepped to Harry’s side, examining the boy with magic Voldemort knew not. Healing spells were never his forte. After several agonizing moments of oohing and huffing from the physician with no real improvement in Harry’s state, Voldemort lost all patience. “Well are you going to do something?!” 

A grey pallor seemed to have settled on the doctor as he tried to put his results into words that would not get him killed. He could see him calculating behind those thick rimmed glasses, questioning his decision to come into this room at all. “If you do not tell me whatever is making you so nervous then I shall be forced to pull it from your mind myself. I assure you it would not be pleasant.”

Still hesitant, the man finally spoke, “My Lord, the boy is very injured but some skele-gro and a few choice spells should set him right again. However, there is another matter which concerns me. He is small, too small for his age and his bones are fragile. He will need to be put on nutrient potions immediately. There are also other injuries, ones which do not match any that you have. Well that is, they are older than they should be. I mean”  
“You mean I did not cause them.”

“Yes my Lord. Some of them are very old and I imagine are from the muggle family he was placed with. There are old fractures which have never properly healed, I will need to re-break several bones to fix them. However, that is not what concerns me most. There is a spell, one which all physicians use whilst examining a patient. It determines their next of kin and is so automatic that I cast it on instinct rather than purpose.” 

He was going to wring this windbags neck if he didn’t get to the point soon. “Are you being this long winded on purpose? Is this some new attempt at passive suicide I have never heard of?”

!

Fear flashed across Pembroke’s face as he stuttered out a denial, “NO! No my Lord. The spell, it named you as his kin! Obviously, I checked this against another spell and then another. When a family member, however distant, seeks protection from the head of their line, it creates a bond between the two. It is old magic, not often invoked as it holds only to the oldest, purest of bloodlines. As you are the Lord Slytherin, you are the head of your family. Harry must share your lineage. My Lord, you are unable to kill him, your magic will not allow him to come to harm. Deliberate or accidental it won’t matter, your magic will react and neutralize the threat. My Lord, Harry Potter now belongs to you.”

Something inside him revelled at this while another more rational part of his brain weighed the possible consequences of his actions. If Potter belonged to him then the war was won. His smile must have been wider than typical because it made Pembroke flinch back two paces before he recovered himself. “My Lord, Potter will feel an obligation to you. He will feel safe in your presence and content to remain there even if he doesn’t know why. The feeling, it will be mutual. You will want to protect him, keep him safe from harm. I do not know that this bond can be broken. I fear that any attempt to do so would not only strip you of your title but also your magic itself.” 

Break it? Why would he break it? This was everything that he needed to win the war. Harry Potter, no Harrison Riddle Slytherin would stand by his side against the forces of light, together they would end this war.


	2. Chapter 2

His head felt fuzzy, his limbs were heavy and his vision was blurred. Normally this would have him panicking and jumping out of the too soft bed. Normally though when he wakes up feeling like this he's curled up on a tiny hard mattress in a locked room with bars on the windows. He tells himself that it's ok. The bed is soft (too soft to be his bed in the Hogwarts’ infirmary) but maybe he was healed enough to be put in his own bed in Gryffindor. He doesn't remember much of yesterday, snippets of a battle, pain and blood and grief then safety. He hasn't felt that safe since his first term at Hogwarts. Quirrel and the troll soon made him realise what a lie that was. Maybe this was some remnant of that, after all someone must have rescued him, even if he couldn't remember who.  

He was trying to decide whether to get up or not when he heard muttered voices. The furious whispers sounded almost familiar but not quite recognizable. A soft shuffle led to what Harry assumes must be a door opening but his eyesight was too poor to see it. It was only when the figures stood over him that he was able to make sense of the blurred shapes. He should have screamed, flinched away, been desperate to escape. He should have recoiled in fear and begged for his life, instead he leaned his body into Voldemort’s touch. He let himself soak up the attention of the older man, basking in his touch as the hand in his hair gripped him tightly. Something was very wrong.The logical rational part of his brain said that this was wrong. Yesterday he would have been terrified. 

There was something something he was forgetting. He could almost feel it there, niggling at the back of his brain, some memory he couldn't reach. Maybe he should ask Neville if he could borrow his rememberall, provided he ever saw him again that is. 

Not sure what to do or how to react, Harry did the only thing he could think off, he ran his mouth. "So did you heal me up just so you could torture me properly or is this a drugs thing? 'Cause I'm feeling pretty strung out and kinda like I want to cuddle you which is weird, so drugs?" Malfoy the elder let out a rough laugh that could have been a groan but Harry didn't care about him. Harry only cared about the man running clever fingers through his hair massaging his scalp. It took everything Harry had not to moan with pleasure but the gleam in Voldemort's eye said he knew. This was definitely most strange.  

Those clever fingers traced down his forehead and nose lightly brushing over his lips until they landed on Harry's chin. A single finger tipped the boy's face upwards so he had a perfect view of Voldemort, no Tom, he looked like an older Tom Riddle no snake face in sight. "Harry listen to me very carefully. We are bound you and I with old magic that cannot be broken. You are mine now to care for and protect. I will provide for you and in return you will leave this war. I do not ask that you join me, although you may if you choose, but we will no longer be enemies. Do you understand?"   
Malfoy was making angry noises about ungrateful whelps but all Harry could do was blurt out "We're accidentally married!"   
Malfoy wailed at that, arms flailing in an undignified manner, apparently appalled by the very idea. Well Harry was too or he would be if he wasn't strung out. Voldemort's laughter dragged his attention back to the older man. "No fear Harry. Our bond is closer to a guardianship of sorts."   
Tom must have seen the shiver of fear he tried to suppress, for he continued "I will not harm you like those foul muggles. You will be under my protection. The drug you refer to is our bond. It creates, sentiment between us, every fibre of my being yearns to keep you safe Harry. I believe it will generate similar feeling in you, perhaps not of protection but safety and comfort. Do you feel safe in my bed Harry?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think Luna is a pureblood, but for the sake of this I've made her one, please don't hate me!

Voldemort had to admit that Harry made quite the picture, stretched out on his mattress, snatches of skin showing whenever he moved.

Perhaps he should reconsider his options. The boy would make a wonderful mate but not yet. He had no desire to fall to the same perversion as Pembroke, albeit with a different sex. No he would maintain his guardianship of the boy and do his utmost to elicit positive reactions from him. Due to their bond Harry could legitimately fall in love with him if he played his cards right. 

Smiling softly to himself, he returned his fingers to Harry’s thick dark hair scratching softly at his scalp. The boy was so responsive to his touch, so eager, it sent a thrill through him. "Once my physician declares you fit I'll return you to Hogwarts. You may claim you escaped the Ministry and have been in hiding until then."  
Harry's body stiffened beneath his fingers in surprise, his eyes showing nothing but confusion and doubt. "Your education is vital Harry. I will expect you to do well and will be monitoring your progress."  
A petulant frown preceded Harry's nearly inaudible question "What about Dumbledore? I'm rubbish at occlumancy, he'll find out."   
The way Harry's avada kedavra eyes flickered to his own made him wonder whether he was concerned for Voldemort or himself. Unsure how to proceed he decided to settle on the facts, "I know a spell which will occlude your mind from anyone but me. I assure you no-one will know."  


The boy nodded silently obviously deep in thought. Lucius was making impatient motions beside him, no doubt still fuming over this entire situation. "Alright. I’ll tell everyone I escaped and hid out in the muggle world with some old friends."  
Voldemort couldn't help but flash the boy a puzzled look, he knew Harry had no muggle friends. "They won't question it. No-one really knows about the Dursleys. I tried to tell Dumbledore once, begged him not to send me back to them but he brushed it off. The Weasleys are all purebloods they don't know any better and Hermione's so bloody naive it's never even crossed her mind that something could be wrong. Luna will be the only one to wonder but no-one listens to her anyway."  
For someone on the so called light side Harry sure had a lot of pureblood friends. In fact the only person in his circle who wasn't a pureblood was Hermione, not that Voldemort would bring it up. It did lead him to thinking about other purebloods though. It was time Harry expanded his social circle a little. It wouldn't do to have him at odds with Draco and the other Slytherins. He would issue a mandate and Snape would enforce it. With a quick glance at Lucius, Voldemort settled himself on the bed beside Harry. The boy leaned just a fraction closer so their bodies touched. "I have a request Harry and I know that you may not like it but I feel it is necessary."   
The boy was looking at him now with wide green eyes, "I want you to fix things with Draco."   
He couldn't tell if the strangled noise came from Harry or Lucius, so he simply ignored it. "Will you do this for me Harry, please?"  
He could feel their bond snapping to attention between them. He couldn't impose his will on him but the bond made Harry almost desperate to please him. He allowed their bodies to nudge closer until the boy was nearly on his lap and his hand was rubbing soothing circles into the child’s back. "Please Harry, for me?"  
He knew the instant Harry gave in, his body slumping entirely onto his. A mumbled response about Draco behaving too had him shooting a glare at Lucius. The boy would obey his father and Lord's command or he would regret it. "He will become your friend Harry and the other Slytherins will follow his lead. Now you need to rest. I'll have someone call you for dinner."  
Unable to stop himself he pressed a kiss into that mop of hair and tugged the blankets tightly around him.


	4. Chapter 4

He was surrounded by Death Eaters. Two rows of them, five on each side all quietly slurping their soup. Alright, Harry was the one slurping, pureblood supremacists apparently had better table manners than that. Voldemort was seated next to him, he had tried to place Harry at the other end of the table but there was no way Harry was sitting there. If he was going to be surrounded by Death Eaters then he was going to stick to Voldemort like glue. He was safe with Tom. When Tom pulled out the chair for Harry like he was some Victorian maiden he had stared incredulously at the older man. A stare off (which Tom lost) had Harry marching to the top of the table, heavy chair bouncing against his pyjama clad knee with every step. Malfoy and the Lestranges glared daggers at Harry during the entire scene while the others swung between confusion and anger. Tom made no effort to help, simply smiled at Harry as he struggled along. It was only when he was seated and dinner had been served that he remembered his wand. Clearly this bond thing was really messing with his head.  

He could feel their eyes on him. Tom hadn't actually explained anything to anyone. He had simply marched his sworn enemy through their ranks and proceeded to feel him up all through dinner. Ok, so that was a lie, but he let Harry feel him up. There was some desperate need inside him that made him want to touch Tom. He had made sure to lean into his body heat and brush hands whenever he could. Halfway through the entrée Tom had tugged Harry's chair closer so their legs were pressed hip to thigh, the screeching of the chair had the entire room staring at them. Once the staring had passed Harry went back to casually touching the Dark Lord. Tom wasn't much better he seemed determined to feed Harry. He was constantly placing more food on his plate, even going so far as to take the last bread roll off Rabastan's plate and give it to Harry. This of course led to more staring and a very unfriendly glare from Lestrange. Unable to take it anymore Harry shot out of his chair drawing all eyes to him. He knew the figure he cut wasn't exactly impressive, red striped jammies two sizes too big did not make a person look intimidating at all. The fact that his hair was hopelessly ruffled from sleep and Tom's fingers probably didn't help. Still he held his ground, glaring at the assembled inner circle "This is a thing now. We're not fighting anymore, no-one's allowed to hurt me and I'm going back to school soon, so you all need to get over it. You touch me and you're dead. Your kids touch me and they're dead too so stop staring and eat your food!"  
There that would show them. 

Some of them snickered loudly, others flickered their gaze to Tom and Malfoy while others just looked stunned. Not a single one of them went back to eating their dinner and Harry couldn't help but tense up. The tightening of his muscles or maybe the excruciating silence finally got to Tom because he leaned closer to Harry tucking the younger boy against his shoulder and spoke "There have been a few recent changes. Due to a case of accidental magic Harry and I share an unbreakable bond. As such he has agreed to remove himself from this war. Harry Potter is off limits. He will not be harmed in any way. Anyone who goes against my orders will, as Harry correctly surmised, die very unpleasantly. Now I believe we have some treacle tart for dessert."  
Treacle tart, obedient Death Eaters and a cuddly Dark Lord, maybe this bond thing wouldn't be too bad after all.


End file.
